


The Meaning of Obvious

by Tarlan



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Character Study, Community: fanfic100, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e11 The Return Part 2, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-21
Updated: 2007-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-21 19:11:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack reflects on the proximity of death...and the way his meaning of obvious differs from McKay's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meaning of Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> **Fanfic100** challenge. Prompt 030. Death....but this is **NOT** a death fic :-)

Over the years Jack had considered all the ways he could die, and Ba'al had made some of the nastier ones happen over and over. While captured by the ruthless Goa'uld he had been stabbed, burned and asphyxiated. He'd had acid thrown over him, had been used for target practice and had...other unmentionable acts performed upon his body to give Ba'al constant and varying pleasure in his death. Every one of those deaths had been painful, most leaving him without a shred of remaining dignity as his body betrayed him.

Over and Over.

After each excruciatingly painful death, Ba'al brought him back using the sarcophagus and each time he awoke in his cell, Daniel was there, unable to intervene but trying to keep him sane while he awaited either permanent death or rescue, whichever came first. At times he had hated Daniel, hated that he had the power to end Jack's torment and yet would or could do nothing. He had hated the ascended ancients too, for denying Daniel the chance to save him physically. All Daniel could do was try to impart a little of his knowledge and show Jack the way to ascension just in case the next death was permanent. Problem was, Jack was uncertain if he wanted to be amongst a so-called enlightened race that sat in high judgment of others and did nothing of any good.

After so many deaths, Jack thought he would be used to the concept and the reality of it but fear still managed to catch at him, stripping the moisture from his mouth and sending adrenaline surging through his body. To be honest, he thought he had gotten passed all this death by violence nonsense when he accepted that second star and became a Major General; a cushy office job in the Pentagon, a comfortable chair, nice big oak desk and a secretary who brought him coffee and cake on demand. So how the hell did he manage to end up here on Atlantis in a cell while some jumped up robot put its hand in his head. IN HIS HEAD, for chrissake.

This was all McKay's fault.

He'd almost drowned in that freezing water trying to rescue his damn rescuers, though McKay had seemed rather apologetic when Jack pointed out that the _obvious_ manual override was a dead man's switch. Spending that amount of time in one place was bound to trigger some alarm somewhere so Jack really ought not to have been surprised to find Woolsey being held by the Asurans when he resurfaced for the third time.

McKay owed him big time for this.

Perhaps he should have been a little worried that his mind was a big nothing. Certainly, the Asuran was looking around with a slightly bemused but impressed expression. It did not linger though, having discovered what it wanted from Woolsey but it left Jack with a tiny piece of knowledge. All the Ancients who had arrived only weeks before were dead, murdered by the Asurans. All of them. Too overconfident in their own abilities and technology to consider the changes wrought over ten millennia. He would have thought they'd have learned to be cautious after the Wraith but at least Helia had not betrayed him and Woolsey before she died.

As the hand slid out of his forehead, he dropped to the floor, exhausted, his damp clothing sticking to his skin from his swim earlier. That was another way to die he had not anticipated--drowning--and it had been a close thing when he could not prise open the doors after his attempt to find this _obvious_ override switch.

Woolsey sank down beside him, face pale with shock. "And I thought being trapped on the set of The Mummy was the worst that could happen to me."

"Hmm?"

Woolsey waved a hand. "Long story. Ask SG-1."

"The Prior bugs," Jack stated, recalling the mission report and the close call when the alpha site was compromised by an insect scientist's experiment on some of the bugs swarming across planets visited by one of the Ori Priors. The creatures had devastated crops like a plague of locust but, until the entomologist fed them meat, they had shown no interest in the people. The result was horrific and Woolsey's group and Jack's former team members were lucky to escape with their lives.

Yeah, one more death he had managed to escape so far--being eaten alive by bugs--though he was sure Ba'al would have arranged that treat for him had he some Prior bugs hanging around on his mothership.

****

Hours later, Jack luxuriated beneath the hot shower in the quarters assigned to him in Atlantis, liking th fact that all he had to do was think _hotter_ or _colder_ and it obeyed him. McKay had explained before leaving Atlantis all those weeks ago that he couldn't accidentally scald himself as there was a failsafe built in so no worry about death by scalding. He turned beneath the hot spray, letting the heat seep into his back to chase the last of the chill from his body. He had meant to grab a jumper ride home but it hadn't taken much to convince him to stay a few extra days. For starters, he had promised to have a word with McKay about the _meaning of obvious_.

Eventually, he thought _off_ and grabbed a thick, warm towel, wrapping it around his hips while he used a second towel to blot the droplets still clinging to his skin. He stepped out of the bathroom and stopped at the sight of McKay sprawled half naked across his bed, shoes and socks dropped carelessly near the door with his black pants and t-shirt, leaving him clad only in a garish pair of boxers. Jack raised an eyebrow but gained only an excited, mischievous grin in response as McKay's eyes traveled down Jack's almost naked body.

"Should you be here?"

"After-near-death sex is supposed to be the best."

"It is, is it?"

Jack stalked forward and stopped by the bed, watching as the brilliant blue of McKay's eyes was swallowed by dilating pupils. His eyes dropped to the hard cock tenting the front of McKay's boxers, smirking at the darkening patch, evidence of McKay's arousal. Shaking his head, Jack threw one towel towards the bathroom and allowed the one around his hips to fall when McKay tugged on it, leaving him standing naked before his occasional lover. McKay yelped in surprise when Jack lunged for him, squashing him into the mattress and Jack chuckled as McKay thrashed and writhed beneath him before stilling when Jack captured his wrists and pinned them to the bed. He leaned in and nipped at McKay's throat, just under his defiantly-raised chin and gained a soft moan in response. Taking those crooked lips in a hard, passionate kiss, Jack hummed in minor annoyance as his hips rocked against McKay's cotton-clad hips, feeling the friction of the material against his sensitive cock when what he wanted and needed was naked flesh. Pushing up and back, Jack grasped the waistband of the boxers and dragged them down past McKay's knees, chuckling again as he watched McKay concentrate hard on kicking the boxers free, triumph glazing his lover's eyes when he succeeded.

"Oh, this is better. Much better," McKay murmured, and Jack had to agree as, slowly, he lost himself in the drag of flesh upon flesh, hearing McKay's running dialog as so much background noise as the last remaining tension of the past few days was drowned within the rising crescendo from a desperately needed release. Muted cries and soft gasps heralded McKay's release, the fresh flood of wet heat between their close-pressed bellies marking his pleasure too.

Afterwards, it was easy to simply lie sprawled together in a sticky pile, exchanging soft, nibbling kisses as the adrenaline of the past days finally gave way to a bone-weary but now pleasurable fatigue.

"See," McKay murmured smugly. "Best sex ever."

Jack grinned against his lover's neck, planting a gentle kiss on the pulse point, this time very happy for McKay to be proved right yet again. As they snuggled down into a well-deserved sleep, Jack recalled his earlier annoyance, opened his eyes a fraction and prodded McKay in the chest, not hard enough to bruise but enough to regain his attention.

"You and me have got to talk about the meaning of obvious."

"Hmm?"

Jack smiled at the sleepy questioning tone and sighed as he wrapped his arm around McKay's sweaty and sticky body, knowing he would be wasting his breath trying to speak of it now as McKay's breathing deepened into light snores.

"Tomorrow," he whispered to the sleeping man. "We'll talk about it tomorrow...after more near-death sex."

Perhaps some things between them _were_ obvious, like the way he felt lying sated and secure in McKay's arms after a harrowing few days. Moments later he was slipping into the little death of sleep too, having avoided the permanent version for another day.

THE END


End file.
